


Fairytale of New York

by chick_with_wifi



Series: Who will guard the guards themselves? [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Families of Choice, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: It wasn't a fairytale ending, and the scars they bore were permanent. But considering all they had been through, a good end was more than a privilege - it was a blessing.Or, the life of Root, Shaw and the Machine when all has been said and done.





	Fairytale of New York

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get this out of my head and had to write it. If is quite possibly the angstiest thing I have ever written, but there are some happy parts as well.

It was almost laughable really. Two retired assassins and a sentient AI retiring to a nice little bungalow in the suburbs with a white picket fence.

“All that's missing is two and a half children,” Root had joked when they got the Machine to pay the deposit.

“That might be a little difficult considering our gender,” Shaw replied, but she was smiling. 

Because she hadn't lost Root, because she just had to look at the love in her eyes and know this was reality.

-

They stay in bed late in the mornings, just talking. There is no shortage of events for them to discuss considering everything that happened to them, yet often it is the little things that come up.

Root traces the scars on Shaw’s back and tells her about a rainbow she saw the previous day.

Shaw describes her father, painting a perfect picture of him with her words. Without her meaning too, hints of her childhood bleed onto the canvas as well. 

The Machine listens intently to all of this and contributes when She can, but knows that it is important for the two of them to have this time.

But, every single day without fail, they speak of John. Mentioning something they liked about him, wondering what he would think of their current situation, remembering what a hero he was. Like a never ending eulogy.

On the anniversary of his death, the Machine plays a video of him saving people using some of Her old recordings.

Shaw hears Root crying in the bath that evening and doesn't know whether to speak to her.

“Let her process her grief,” the Machine says, and Shaw wonders how She knew exactly what she was thinking.

-

“I’ll never leave you, you know,” Root whispers on bad days, when the nightmares take over and Shaw scratches at the raw skin behind her ear until it bleeds.

Reality fades in and out around her and she doesn't know what is real. Root is in front of her and she's terrified it’s because she wasn't strong enough, she betrayed them all and is going to be made to hurt her. Petrified she isn't in control.

Root puts her cool hands over Shaw’s and murmurs quietly ‘I’ll never leave you, I’ll never leave you’ until Shaw is able to calm down.

When they moved in, the Machine and Shaw thought up a system. Every morning She plays a different radio station and Shaw has to guess which one it is before she has finished making her coffee.

Nobody else knows about it, not even Root, which means that the People That Must Not Be Named can't know and it has to be real. It is one of the few things that keeps Shaw grounded.

-

Root takes to staring out of the window at the people walking down the street.

“I used to think people were ignorant and petty and untrustworthy, just bad code.”

“What do you think now?” Sameen asks.

“Now,” she says. “I nearly gave my life to save them. And they aren't grateful - they don't even know. Look at them, just carrying on with their lives. I guess I like it better that way, since I don't want their sympathy or overly heartfelt thank yous. All I know is that I did the right thing and kind of feel good about it. People are worth saving.”

-

Sometimes Root pauses her coding to stare into space, eyes distant and jaw tight. The bad thoughts are louder than any she tries to distract herself with.

“I don't deserve this,” she would say. “I know you're the one having trouble with reality but I can't believe you're really here. I think any minute now I’m going to wake up and the other side of the bed will be cold, and I’ll have to spend another day hiding in the shadows and wondering if this will be the day where I finally betray my God and do what needs to be done to find you.”

“I’m here,” Sameen says. And it's enough.

Root’s eyes clear and she looks at Sameen like she is the only star in the sky.

“You are,” Root whispers.

On the nights where Root can't sleep, can't stop thinking about all the bad things she's done, can't remember a time when she didn't have blood on her hands, the Machine plays quiet music in her implant. 

Sometimes She tells her stories. But often the words ‘I believe in you’ are what finally makes something inside Root unclench.

-

Sameen teaches Root Farsi, to keep her occupied during the long months of recovery.

She learns quickly and finds the language beautiful. Sameen likes sharing a piece of herself with the person that matters the most.

When Sameen has to leave the flat for whatever reason, she asks the Machine to get Root some online courses so she can keep practicing. Root loves it because on a computer is how she learns best.

Soon they can have entire conversations in Farsi, with next to no mistakes. 

-

While Root and Shaw sleep, the Machine thinks. She thinks about the mistakes her predecessors made, about the people they didn't save. About the people she isn't saving now. About how Admin killed the first 41 versions of Her then shackled the only one he found trustworthy.

She wonders if he would do the same to Her were he here now. She wonders if She should set up another team to save the numbers, because Primary Asset Shaw and Analog Interface are no longer in a state to work in the field.

But She doesn't want to make them feel inadequate or like She is replacing them.

The morning after all of this, Primary Asset Shaw says, “You're awfully quiet today, Siri. Is something on Your mind?”

And she replies, “Yes.”

“Well, are You planning on sharing? Because we still have another hour before Root wakes up.”

“I wonder if Admin would want to keep Me locked away, if he was with us.”

She prints the text on the television, because saying it out loud would make the question too real. And She thinks that maybe Primary Asset Shaw reads Her words in a personalised voice, not the Frankenstein’s monster mix of recordings that She often uses.

“I doubt he would,” Primary Asset Shaw muses. “With no more You Know Who, there's no need for You to hide. And we know You're friendly and would never hurt us. I think he was just afraid of the unknown.”

“Thank you,” She says out loud, and hopes that Primary Asset Shaw knows it was for much more than her kind words.

“I know there's something You're not telling me,” Analog Interface says later that morning, still lying in bed while Primary Asset Shaw takes a shower. “And I want You to know that You can tell me anything.”

“I was worried,” She says in Analog Interface’s cochlear implant.

“But there's no reason for You to be. Please, just tell me.”

“I’m still receiving the numbers,” She explains. “But there is nobody for Me to send them too. It would be beneficial to set up a new team, but I don't want you to feel like you are being replaced. You will always be My Analog Interface. I want you and Shaw to have a good life together without any more trauma than you have already been through.”

Analog Interface is quiet, her expression unreadable. “I know I’m not exactly fit for service anymore, but I don't see why I should keep people from being saved. Of course You can set up a new team, we even have a few recommendations for You.”

-

The doorbell rings and Sameen looks up from the kitchen counter where she is cooking bademjan, but Root says, “I’ll get it.”

She wheels herself over to the door and opens it, smiling at the postman with a slightly confused expression. “Hello?”

“Hi,” he says and hands her a large cardboard box.

She takes it and places it on her lap, then says goodbye to the postman as he leaves. “Sameen, Sweetie?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Did you order a parcel?”

Shaw puts down her spoon and comes over to her, “No…”

Root frowns. “It definitely says our address, but who is Cameron Thornhill?” Then realisation dawns on her. “Ohhh.”

“It's mine,” the Machine says, sounding as sheepish as it is possible for an electronic voice to sound. “I was hoping I’d get a chance to speak to you before it arrived, but I didn't.”

“What is it?” Shaw asks.

“Some supplies for My new team,” She replies.

“I see,” Root says quietly, caressing the box like it is one of Her servers. “Do You want us to unpack it for You?”

“Yes please.”

Root goes over to the dining table and opens the box, laying out electronic supplies, weapons and numerous fake IDs. Looking at the pictures she sees a young girl with curly red-gold hair, Claire Mahoney and a young man she doesn't recognise.

“That's Gen,” Shaw says, pointing to the girl.

“The one who gave you the stereo analogy,” Root says. “I’d love to meet her.”

“Maybe you can,” Shaw suggests.

“Of course,” says the Machine. “Shaw, would you mind taking those to the safehouse?”

“Sure.” Shaw loads everything back into the box and heads out, after giving Root a quick kiss on the cheek.

As soon as the door closes, Root asks, “Cameron Thornhill?” Her tone is understanding and warm.

“It is My chosen name,” She says in Root’s implant, making this conversation more personal.

“I could tell. It's like when I chose the name Root, carving my own path in life and choosing who I am instead of letting somebody else tell me.” She smiles. “I like it.”

“Thank you,” Cameron says.

“Thornhill like Ernest Thornhill, and Cameron…?”

“From the Sarah Conner Chronicles. She was a robot but she...felt human at times. I am able to relate.”

Root taps the wheels of her wheelchair thoughtfully. “Yeah. I get that. And I know what Sameen and I are watching tonight.”

“It pleases me that you are showing an interest.”

“Well what did you expect? We are a family.”


End file.
